Page 36 of Pucking Amazing

At least something’s going right. I rub my knee absentmindedly.

The steady regimen of Advil, icing, and babying it between practices seems to be keeping the ache to a dull roar. Gotta stay on top of that if I want to keep bringing my A game...

My phone trills suddenly, making me jump. I snatch it up, hoping—but it’s just my mom calling.

Ah well, I need to talk to her too, make sure she doesn’t need more help. I stifle my disappointment and answer.

“Hey Ma, what’s up?”

“Hi honey, how’s Tampa treating you?” Her voice is warm but sounds tired.

“Can’t complain. Wish you could see this resort, you’d love it. How are things back home?”

She sighs. “Oh you know, same old same old...”

I frown, hearing the exhaustion in her voice. “Everything okay? You know I can transfer more money if…” If she’d just tell me exactly how much she owes on her cards after that ruinous investment. But she won’t share the details, insisting that she doesn’t want to worry me.

“No, no, I couldn’t ask you to do that again...”

“Hey, I’m happy to help. You’re my number one girl, you know that.”

She laughs softly. “What am I gonna do with you and that silver tongue?”

“Let me transfer some cash to get you through the next couple months? No arguments?” I say, rolling over to one side to keep my conversation shielded from some of my teammates who are hanging out a few chairs down.

“Alright, alright. You win,” Mom concedes with a sigh. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, kiddo. I’m so proud of the man you’ve become...”

“Aw geez, you’re gonna make me blush,” I joke. “Love you, Ma.”

“I love you too, DJ,” she replies, and I can hear the emotion in her voice. “So much. Thanks for looking out for your old mom.”

“Anytime,” I assure her. “Talk soon, okay? Try to relax a little.”

She agrees and we say our goodbyes. I toss my phone down and rub a hand over my face.

I’m grateful I can help her out, but I wish she wasn’t too proud to just share all the details so I could pay off her debts once and for all. Right now I could afford it, I’m sure—we all got a sweet holiday bonus since the team has been winning games again.

I’m planning to transfer it all to her, she needs it more than I do.

I take a deep breath and push the stress aside. Today’s about rewarding myself for playing well and giving my body some much needed R&R. My eyes drift shut as I let the warm sun melt the tension away, but my thoughts keep drifting back to bronze skin, soft curves and hard muscle...

Dammit, why doesn’t Tyler just text me back?

The team’s big win last night has me on top of the world...and horny as hell. What can I say, crushing it on the ice always gets me amped up and ready to celebrate in my favorite way—by making somebody scream my name in ecstasy.

My mind keeps flashing back to the charity event—the press of Sydney’s lush curves against me as we danced, those come-fuck-me bedroom eyes. And Tyler behind her, his heated gaze locked on mine.

I can still feel the solid heat of his body pinning me against the lockers, taste the desperation on his tongue right before he bolted like the hounds of gay panic hell were nipping at his tight little ass.

Fuck, I’m getting hard again just thinking about it. I palm my dick through my board shorts, then throw a towel over my lap in consideration for my teammates just across the pool. Not the time.

Snagging my phone, I pull up my texts with Tyler, scanning the series of increasingly thirsty messages I’ve sent him. The dude is an Olympic-level ghosting champ—my texts get read almost instantly but no reply.

Maybe turn receipts off, my guy.

I toss the phone aside with a sigh, sinking lower in the recliner and adjusting myself lewdly. When did I turn into a lovesick teenager, moping over unrequited crushes?

This is some bullshit. DJ Johnston waits for no man. Or woman. There are plenty of hotties in my contacts who’d come running to bounce on my dick. I should call one of them...

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